“See?” Valeria whispered loudly enough to be heard.
Diego squeezed her hand and smirked. He did not say anything to you directly, which somehow made it worse. He just looked at you with that lazy, relieved contempt of a man who thought the law had blessed his theft, then stepped into the rain like somebody entering a future already paid for.
Rebecca handed you a coffee.
“Last chance to tell me you want to stop at transferring the funds and leave the rest to God,” she said.
You wrapped both hands around the cup and watched Diego descend the courthouse steps like a man leaving a casino with someone else’s money in his pocket. “God has had three years,” you replied. “He can take the afternoon off.”